


Imagine Arthur/Sean/Charles communicating with a non-English speaking immigrant reader.

by novaiya



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novaiya/pseuds/novaiya
Summary: Based on this request: can you write imagines for Arthur, Sean and Charles with a non-English speaking immigrant reader? If not that’s totally okay!! (Imagining the interactions that happen between them and the reader as they try to communicate would be funny ^^)
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Reader, Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption)/Reader, Sean MacGuire/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Imagine Arthur/Sean/Charles communicating with a non-English speaking immigrant reader.

**Author's Note:**

> This was very fun to write, because at some point, I too was a non-english speaking immigrant. Language barrier sucks, but when you have people like Arthur, Charles or Sean, it sucks a little less lol I’m gonna be honest, as much fun as I had wiring this, I struggled a bit, especially with Arthur. If you look at Arthur’s interaction with people who don’t speak English… It seems like he has little to no patience with them lmfao

It was your third week with this group of people. It might’ve been fourth or maybe even fifth, but you couldn’t tell. All the days have blended into a one, long nightmare.

You have come to this country, the new world, in search of a better life, and instead, turned out worse than where you came from.

Thankfully, a group of people have picked you up, given you food and shelter and only asked for a small contribution in the form of basic housekeeping (more like camp keeping) in return. But even that was proving to be complicated, for you didn’t speak the language that the people did. You knew a few words before coming to America, basics like “Hello”, “Thank you”, “My name is…”, but nothing more. You were planning to continue your studies once you’ve arrived, but it seemed like you’d have to learn on the go. You were picking up some stuff here and there from the listening to camp members talk. You would attentively listen to the leader, Dutch was his name, and try to memorize the words he spoke. Plan, faith, and money would be common words in most of his speeches, and you’ve already learned their meanings.

* * *

**Arthur.**

You were taking a break, sitting on the edge of the camp and sketching on a piece of paper. You enjoyed drawing. It was a relaxing hobby, and it would remind you of your childhood, back when things were simpler.

“Hey there,” you heard from behind you. You turned around, seeing Arthur.

“Hello,” you said, your accent evident even in such a simple word.

“What you doing there,” he said as he took a seat next to you, looking at the scrap of paper in your hand.

You took a second to process what he just said. You heard the word “what”, and thought that maybe he was asking what you were doing. You didn’t know how to say you were drawing in english, so you simply showed him the sketch you were working on, pointing at it with your pencil.

“Ah,” Arthur exclaimed, understanding you. “You’re drawing.”

You tilted your head, not understanding what he’s saying.

“Drawing,” he repeated. He used his hand to pretend like he’s drawing. “You,” he said pointing at you, “draw.”

“Draw,” you repeated, looking at his hands then at a scrap of paper on your own. “I am drawing.”

“There you go.”

You smiled when you understood. Even a single word was a victory for you. The sooner you knew the language, the sooner you could get back on your feet.

“I draw too sometimes,” he said.

You turned to look at him.

He shuffled a bit, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a notebook. He skimmed through a few pages before showing you one of them. There, you saw a drawing of a horse. Your own sketch, in comparison to his, looked like chicken scratches.

“You draw very good,” you said.

A small smiled tugged at Arthur’s lips and he said, “thank you”

You nodded your head with a smile on your lips mirroring his. It was nice to have conversations. Due to the language barrier between you and the rest of the camp members, it was hard to make any significant connections. Most of your conversations only went as far as “thank you” or “good morning”. Arthur, however, has been one of the only people trying to bridge the gap between you and the rest of the gang. He would often start talking to you as if the language wasn’t a problem, and if you didn’t understand something, he would try to explain with simpler terms, using his hands or pointing at things, like he did just now when explaining drawing to you.

“I know a place not far from here,” Arthur spoke up, pulling you out of your thoughts, “Lot’s of animals roam there; horses, deers. I can take you there and you can draw them. If you want to, that is.”

You took a moment to understand what he meant. You basically understood every word he said, but was having a hard time of putting them together to understand the meaning behind them.

“You and I go draw together?” you said.

Arthur chuckled a bit. It was not exactly what he meant, but it was close enough. Maybe he could use that opportunity to get to know you better, as much as the language barrier would allow.

“Sure, we can do that too.”

* * *

**Charles**

You were walking along the outskirts of the camp, taking a break from your chores to enjoy the nature around you. You could hear the birds sing from every tree, and as you went further into the forest, squirrels and rabbits would run around, not paying any attention to you.

When a bunny stopped almost in front of you, you smiled. You squatted down, almost eye level with the creature.

“I think he likes you,” you heard from behind you.

You turned around, seeing Charles approaching you. You smiled at him, before turning back to the bunny, who was still unfazed by your or Charles' presence.

Charles crouched right next to you, studying the peculiar bunny like you did. He extended his hand, letting the bunny sniff it. You decided to try too, and let out a small laugh when bunny sniffed your hand as well, looking at you and then at Charles.

“He is very nice,” you said with a smile.

Charles nodded. “They can feel your intentions. He probably knows you’re not going to harm him.”

You nodded. You didn’t understand a word he said, but you still made a face as if you did. You wondered what the english word for bunny was.

“What is his name?” you said looking at Charles.

He smiled at your question. Since you’ve joined the gang, Charles admired your strength and work ethic. Even without knowing the language and barely being able to communicate with the rest of the people, you were a productive member of the camp, and have been working hard on learning the language.

He was one the first people that you talked to, and since then you would often go to him when you needed help understanding something. He was very approachable and always patient when it came to your language barrier.

“Bunny,” he replied.

“Bunny.” Your face was so serious when you tried to pronounce the word, Charles laughed a little bit.

“You got it,” he said. “Just gotta practice and it’ll sound perfect.”

“Thank you.”

Somehow, you ended up spending almost half an hour with Charles, studying all the different animals around, learning their names and a few other English words.

“Thank you very much, Charles,” you said when you finally made it back to camp.

“It’s no problem,” he said. “If you ever wanna learn anything else, you just let me know.” He winked at you before going to his tent.

You didn’t understand a word he said, but didn’t need to. That wink said all you needed to know.

* * *

**Sean**

It was nighttime, and most of the camp members were either getting ready for bed or gathering around the campfire, swapping stories and drinks. Due to the language barrier, you usually skipped those events; you couldn’t understand a single word they were saying and it made you feel out of place. Instead, you preferred to spend your evenings at a small table a little way from the campfire with a children’s book in your hand. You got the book from Abigail, who in turn got it from Hosea for Jack. She would lend it to you at the end of the day, after Jack has finished his lessons with Hosea, so you could learn too.

“What you doin’ here all alone?” you heard a voice say behind you.

You turned around, seeing Sean approaching you.

“Reading,” you said, showing him the book in your hand.

“Oh, that,” he said, taking a seat next to you. “I never understood the appeal of readin’. It’s ploddin’.”

“Plod-ding?” you repeated, tilting your head to the side.

“Well, you know, slow. I prefer to use my time in other ways, stealin’ or robbin’ for example.” Even though his voice sounded uplifting, you could see a hint of sadness in it. The smile that he was trying to put on didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You don’t read?” you said.

Sean took a moment before answering your question, shifting a bit in his chair.

“No, not really,” he said. “Me pa never taught me, and after he died I didn’t really have the time.”

You nodded your head, understanding what he said.

Sean wouldn’t let anyone know it, but he was really insecure about his literacy. It’s not often that he needed to read something, but when he did, he was embarrassed that he couldn’t. So instead, he decided to own it, act like he didn’t care and that it was his decision not to learn. Lenny had been trying to teach him for a while then, but it didn’t go anywhere. Everytime Sean would get stuck on a word, or his progress would stagnate, he would get irritated and give up.

“Do you want learn?” you said.

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts. “You mean, learn to read?”

“Yes,” you said. “I read everyday. This kids book. We can read together.”

Sean’s immediate thought was to decline. He’d tried and failed so many times, at this point he didn’t believe he would ever be able to learn. But, something about seeing you, a person who barely spoke a word of English, a stranger in a strange land, trying your hardest despite everything, inspired him. What’s stopping him from doing the same?

“You know what,” he said. “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s meet here tomorrow mornin’. Maybe ol’ Lenny will join us too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr for more RDR2 content novaiya.tumblr.com


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